The 150th Annual Hunger Games
by bsb745
Summary: Six years after a traumatic 144th hunger games, Aiden Harkins from District 10 is reaped for the 6th quarter quell - which means that this year, there'll be a twist involved in the games. Can the 14 year old boy get the odds in his favour against 23 competitors?
1. Prologue Part I

I am shaking and crying. Me and my family are watching the final battle between the last two contenders of the 144th annual Hunger Games. On the left is the girl from district 2 named Felicity Phlite and on the right is the boy from District 10: Steele Harkins. Personally my family has been rooting for Steele since the beginning of the games. There's a reason for that you know, and the reason is that Steele is my older brother. All he needs to do is jab that damn sword into Felicity and my family can pretend like the last two weeks of anguish and emotional torture never happened. Felicity is also wielding a sword, swinging it around like it's her child's plaything. I nervously wrap my arms around my mother and through tear filled eyes she insists that it's going to be okay. She's saying that for herself just as much as for me though, and I can tell.

I redirect my attention to the screen, they're on a plain grassy field with a slight breeze and all that is standing between either one of them and victory is the other person and a sword, with every 'clink' the swords make I wince and my eyes begin to well up and sting from the tears. My brother is 15 and probably wouldn't even be in this mess if he hadn't taken tesserae so many times. But that's hardly fair, my family would have probably starved if it weren't for him – regardless – his name had been put into the reaping bowl 27 times, I would have taken some of the share but of course I can't since I am only eight years old and completely illegible to be in the Hunger Games, yet.

I continue watching my brother and Felicity fight; it has been going on like this for the past 15 minutes. The suspense is obviously eating away at us, as my mother is unable to hold back tears streaming down her face and even my father is beginning to get fidgety watching them constantly swing their blades into one another, I know he would be more devastated than anyone if Steele were to lose. Steele has always been dads favourite, he never said as much but I could just tell; you never heard "Aiden, would you like to come to the shops with me?" or "Aiden, would you like me to get you a glass of water before bed?" It was stupid small things, but it mattered to me; but I suppose I didn't mind so long as everyone was happy and we were all being fed, I didn't really care whether I was anyone's favourite or not.

Steele swings his sword and had Felicity noticed a second later – would have won the games by decapitating her – but Felicity does notice, and she blocks it with her sword. Felicity notices that Steele has left his chest unguarded; she draws back her sword and plunges it deep into my brothers' heart. The room is silent except for the noise of my brothers' screams, followed by a cannon shot and then a booming voice stating "Please congratulate the winner of the 144th annual hunger games, Felicity Phlite!"

For one final time, I see my brother on the screen; lying on the grass with no emotions in his deep green eyes, his short and spiky hair that was dyed grey by the stylists was absolutely still. His somewhat healthy skin tone had been completely flushed out and was now pale and cold. The screen then turned back to Felicity, the murderer of my brother.

Tears were already streaming down my face and I simply did not know how to deal with this, I began pulling my own hair out and screaming with frustration at the world, my mother took hold of me. She was crying hard too; I had never seen my mother look so broken. My dad? Well he just sat there, with absolutely no emotion in his face; he was clearly in shock, and all he could make out was "my... boy..." before getting up and smashing almost every single plate, cup and vase in our house.

I could not believe that this was happening to me.


	2. Prologue Part II

It's been two weeks since my brother's death was broadcasted to the nation. Everyone at school treats me differently now; you would think that people would be the supportive of the boy who just lost his big brother in the hunger games but actually they're just frightened that they'll say the wrong thing to me now so they don't even bother. I'm so lonely. Right now I'm in math; I suppose even the poorer districts need at least a basic education.

I'm almost done figuring out one of the harder questions when a peacekeeper walks into the classroom. "Aiden Harkins, come outside for a moment."

I collect my books into a neat pile before placing them into my bag, and I step outside with the peacekeeper. My mother is there, she's clearly been crying for a couple of hours.

My face sinks. "What is it?"

That's when my mother comes over and embraces me with both arms. "Your father. He couldn't handle it. He's gone." After that she was too distraught to be able to tell me anything else.

I turn to the peacekeeper and see in the reflection of his helmet how panic stricken my expression is. "Explain" is all I can make out.

The peacekeeper frowns. "Earlier today when your father was slicing the meat at the butchery, he took a knife and... well... he killed himself with it."

I look at him in complete disbelief and then sit down, burying my face in my hands. "This isn't happening. This isn't happening. This isn't happening. Why me. Why me. Wh-" My mother is crying again, but she sits down next to me and starts holding me again; rubbing my back and telling me that everything will be okay, and once again it seems to be just as much for her benefit as it is about mine.

She wipes her eyes, and looks me dead in the eye. "Don't you ever leave me, do you understand Aiden? Don't you ever leave Mummy; you're all I have left. You and I are going to get through this together. Please. Don't leave." By now she is crying again.

By the age of eight I knew what it was like to have both a family member murdered and to have a family member kill themself. By the age of eight I knew what it was like to look into my mother's eyes and see nothing but despair and pain when they had been filled with pride and joy just over a month previously. By the age of eight I knew what it was like to feel truly alone, having nobody to talk to about pain that would drive an adult insane.

All because of the Hunger Games.


End file.
